Collide
by Coneflower Adams
Summary: Mr. Gold created the curse to find his lost son, but what he didn't know was that Baelfire was right in front of him the entire time with the one person he never expected to see again.
1. Chapter 1

Collide

_Writer note: This idea has been swimming in my head since last April. I've attempted to write it a few times, but nothing felt right, but I think I finally found my start. Yay!_

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He heard her name, just her name and his whole lonely little world came crashing about his feet. Emma's name was guarantee to restore his true memory, though at the time as the magical prison held him captive, he never imagined how incredible and painful the moment would be to have his former and new life collide.

The curse he created worked better than he ever perceived. He created it specifically to find his son. Having to take every single living being with him and wait 28 years for the return of his true self was only a minor hiccup in the long run. The curse was supposed to bring him to the world to find his boy, but it did more than just that – it found Baelfire as well.

Gold stride along the sidewalk, cane purposefully tapping on the concrete. His eyes were forward, focused on his goal, the only goal he lived for. He arrived at the floral shop blocking the glass door, heart pounding so hard in his chest it could have been visible to anyone. He grabbed for the knob, in-taking a calming breath, though it did nothing to settle his nerves.

It was the sight of her that made every muscle in his body forgot how to work. He'd thought her dead, a tragic death filled with torture and no return. He'd found her grave, only her first name engraved on the tiny stone in a lonesome cemetery on the outskirts of her father's land. It was a horrid lie concocted by a queen whose heart was twisted and black. He knew now of the falsity, the recalling of his fake memories as his former self came to be.

Her standing before his eyes, alive and functioning was nearly enough to bring him to his knees. Some aspects of the curse didn't make sense, even to him and he wondered if it was Regina's part in the whole mess that caused all of this to happen. But in the here and now, he didn't care because she was alive and tangible and he needed to touch her just to be sure she wasn't a dream.

"Mr. Gold" her voice rang in his cloudy mind, snapping him back into the waking moment. "How may I help you?"

"Good day, Ms. French." He couldn't take his eyes off her, yearning and desperation hidden behind an intense gaze. "I have a proposition for you" he replied smooth as a river stone, though his insides were trembling.

Isabelle stared at him, curiosity mixed with suspicion on her pretty features. "This isn't about the rent, is it?"

Gold flinched inward. Of course, she'd automatically assume he'd stop by for that. That was the only reason he ever visited Moe French's quaint flower shop. Baring his teeth, he wasn't sure whether to growl or grin. "No, this is about your son." And it sounded wonderfully painful in his throat. Bae was his son, and he ached to pull him close and fiercely never let go. But out of every person in this whole forsaken town, Bae was with his beloved, being raised in love and reared in kindness by the only woman who ever captured his heart.

Isabelle's lips scowled. "Did he toilet paper your house?" she asked, planting hands upon her hips in the usual mom-fashion that struck Gold with a new spark of admiration for her.

He stared bemused for a beat then shook his head. "No, he did none the sort. I came to offer your boy a job."

"A job?" Her mouth fell open and eyes narrowed as Isabelle maneuvered around the counter to stand before him, a defensive shield suddenly about her. "Why do want to offer my son a job?"

Gold glanced to the side, tapping his cane once. He had to appear to be his grandeur self, even still. "I'm in need of a strong back and young knees, Ms. French. Winters in Storybrooke are seeping into my bones a little harder each year."

She eyed him, understanding on her face but also searching. "Out of all the young men in this town, why my son?"

Gold licked his lips, thinking of an explanation. His jumbled mind had mustered an excuse for his visit to the floral shop, but he was still clearing cobwebs. "I can see that he is a good boy. He's always been polite when I've come across him, and I'm sure he wouldn't mind making some extra money."

Isabelle nodded. "I'm okay with this, but only if Bailey wants the job and if he is treated fairly."

"Oh, you don't need to worry about that." Gold's mind screamed with the urge to reassure her over and over again that he'd never hurt her or his son again.

"At least you don't have to wait for an answer" Isabelle said, and Gold turned to see what had caught attention.

There he was, entering the shop, backpack hanging off one shoulder. He was taller, eye to eye with his father now. Lanky but strong in size. Gold felt his breath catch, his face nearly betraying him as he gazed at the boy, his beautiful boy. It took every fiber of his being to not cross the small space and drag him into an eternal embrace. Hundreds of years and painstaking work was worth this moment just to see Baelfire again.

"Bailey" Isabelle's voice brought Gold back to his senses. She waved for Bae to join her. He slung his backpack off by the counter and stood beside her, Isabelle's arm resting on his shoulder playfully. "Mr. Gold has something to ask you?"

Gold felt his voice give out. The two people he loved, his world, was standing in front of him watching him expectantly. He cleared his throat. "I'd like to offer you a job, son."

Bailey gawked at him. "Really?"

"Really." Gold affirmed with a nod. "I need someone to help me move things and organize my shop. I will only need you a couple days a week so not to interfere with your schooling, but you'll be paid well."

He could tell Bae was mulling it over in his head, and Gold feared the boy would turn down the offer. "I'll accept the job, Mr. Gold." Gold could feel the unbearable tension in his shoulders ease. "Under one condition."

"Name it."

Bailey shrugged Isabelle's arm from his shoulder as he straightened and stared point blank into Gold's eyes looking so grown up. "You never intimidate my mom or my grandpa about money again."

"Bailey!" exclaimed Isabelle, clearly aghast at her son's forwardness.

But he wasn't moved and neither was Gold. "Deal?" Bailey stuck out his hand, and Gold was suddenly in a spacious cottage eating supper with his son at the dinner table.

He caught Bailey's hand, shaking it, though his own hand felt as if it would shake to pieces at the touch. "Deal."


	2. Chapter 2

Anxious stirrings coursed through Gold as he waited for Bailey to show. Two days he fitfully waited for Bae's first day of work at the pawnshop. Two days he resisted temptation to skulk near the floral shop to catch a glimpse of his boy. The idea of snatching Bae away crossed his mind, but the pesky law would not allow that. He had to play his hand right or he'd lose any privilege he had to even come one hundred feet near his son.

Besides, there was more at stake than just Bae. The curse could have placed his son in the care of anyone from the Enchanted Forest, but the curse chose to place him with Belle and Gold could not have planned it any better, unless he could have had Bae in his care from the start. Gold had to exude patience just as he had for 300 years. Knowing that his son was happy and safe and there would sustain him for now.

He was waiting in front of the glass counter, peering diligently through all the baubles that lined the shop's window. He jumped to attention when Bae materialized outside the glass. The boy pushed open the door briskly and paused when he caught sight of Gold standing stiffly in the middle of the room.

Bae's lips formed an awkward smile as he stuffed one hand in his jeans pocket. "So, where do you want me to start, Mr. Gold?"

Gold shook off the desperate need to hold his son, to hear Bae call him by Papa and not his Storybrooke name. He knew it would take a while to fight back his emotions, but until then he'd restrain that part of himself. He shifted to turn, getting better footing on his good leg, and pointed with his cane to all the objects lining the top shelf on the right side of the shop. "I want every item on that shelf dusted and polished."

Bae made a face, but shrugged and went to retrieve the cleaning supplies off the counter without Gold even instructing him to. He grabbed the tool belt, examined it, and finally gave a genuine smile. "This is like the one Grandpa uses when gardening. Cool."

It took Gold several seconds, but it finally registered who Bae was speaking of. Belle's father, Sir Maurice, Lord of the Marchlands, but in this world he was only Moe French, a barely-making-it-by floral shop owner. This situation was truly going to take time to get used to, and Gold secretly schemed on how to bring back his son's memory sooner than how long he'd have to wait for Miss Unbelieving Emma Swan to break the curse.

"Yes, I thought it might come in handy" he replied, and felt as if his heart would wrench at having to use such pointlessly casual words with the one person he yearned to ask for long overdue forgiveness.

Gold was impressed, though not surprised that Bae appeared to be a hard worker. Bae had eagerly helped his father from the time he could walk and never complained about the long hours of staying by his father's side as he spun their meager life earnings.

"This is a lot of stuff" Bae remarked about halfway down the shelf. He wiped his brow that was glistening with a line of sweat, pushing his unruly bangs off his forehead.

Gold sat behind the counter on a rather uncomfortable wooden stool, choosing to riffle through paper work there instead of in his office. This was the only way for him right now to spend time with his boy and Gold would take any opportunity that crossed his way. "Take a break, Bae. There's a refrigerator in my office with soft drinks." He wouldn't mention the fact he had visited the appliance store the day before to buy a small fridge just to stock drinks for his boy.

Bae nodded, seemingly impressed, and disappeared in the back. He emerged momentarily gulping down a Barq's root beer. He sighed, grinning slyly. "Mama doesn't allow soft drinks in our house."

"It'll be our secret" Gold replied, mirroring the boy's grin, feeling more at ease. He knew his son well in the old world, but what qualities the boy gained or lost from the curse was still unknown to him and he felt the need to keep reminding himself of that in case Bae did something out of the ordinary.

The thought reminded Gold of something Belle had asked him, though it didn't register at the time. "What is this business with you toilet papering a house?"

Bae sat awkwardly slumped over as he used the ladder for a makeshift seat. He loudly swallowed a gulp of his drink then snickered to himself as if the question triggered an inside joke that only he was in on. "Me and a friend TPed Dr. Whale's house a month ago."

So it was true. Gold looked curiously at the boy. "Why Dr. Whale?"

Bae sighed in exasperation. "My mom went out on a date with him, but at the end of the night, Whale got real – as Mama said – handsy." The last word sounded as if a question mark should have ended with it. "She actually had to slap him to make him stop."

It took effort for Gold not to snigger. He imagined Belle in a car with Whale getting frisky and her beating the snot out of him with her tiny but deadly fist, but an unexpected wave of anger hit him at the thought of Whale getting frisky with his true love.

"That's why we TPed his house," Bae continued and he made it sound like the most natural thing in the world. It wasn't in Bae's natural to seek revenge, if you could even call littering someone's house with clean rolls of toilet paper revenge, but Gold shook it away and reminded himself again that his Bae would be a bit different. "Anyone who messes with my mom has to deal with me."

"Is that why you made that deal with me?" Gold felt three feet high at the realization. All Bae knew of him was ruthless landlord Mr. Gold. "Protecting your mother."

Bae shrugged nonchalantly, seeming shy for being called out on the fact. "Someone has to protect her."

Gold bowed his head to hide a proud smile. "And why haven't you attacked my house yet?"

Bae snorted. "I promised Grandpa I wouldn't. He thinks you'll have the sheriff ship me off to juvy or something."

"Your mother isn't as worried?" All the times Mr. Gold threatened Isabelle French with bared teeth and steely eyes flooded guilt in him. "It didn't take much to convince her about giving you a job."

"Mama's not paranoid like Grandpa. She'd scratch out someone's eyes if they simply blinked wrong at me" Bae said, a hidden sense of pride in his voice.

"You better hide your drink" Gold informed out of nowhere, but the bell clanged an instant later and Bae scrambled to stuff his can of soda behind a wide-bottomed lamp nearby.

"Hi Mama" Bae greeted far too chipper as he tried to stand casually by the ladder without fidgeting. Gold chuckled inwardly at the display.

Isabelle wasn't buying it. "What on earth are you doing, Bailey?" she asked as him fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"Taking a break."

"A break?" Isabelle turned to face Gold, crossing her arms over her chest. "I didn't figure you as a break kind of boss, Mr. Gold. You certainly don't give any breaks to your tenants when the rent is due and they can't pay."

Gold stepped around the counter, masking the indignation he felt at her cutting words with practiced ease. "That's a different situation all together, Ms. French."

"If you say so." Isabelle spun around, her biting tone brightening. "Bailey, will you go retrieve the cooler from the car for me, please?"

Bae's eyes lit up. "Turkey sandwiches with Swiss cheese and a gallon of mayo?"

Isabelle giggled. "Of course, silly goose!"

Bae bolted out the shop in a flurry of limbs, the door slamming in his wake.

Isabelle was still giggling when she faced Gold again. "That boy would live off turkey if I allowed it." Her cutting edge was gone, and her eyes were softer. "Do you like turkey sandwiches, Mr. Gold?"

"Am I allowed to eat from your lunch package as well?" he asked mimicking her sharpness from just a moment ago.

Isabelle pursed her lips, her gaze not leaving his. "It would be rude of me not to share. It's good to see Bailey in one piece. I had expected to find my son halfway out the door ready for me to save him."

"You assumed I'd be that awful to an employee?"

"I wouldn't put it pass you, but since Bailey isn't begging to leave, I'll take it that he is enjoying his work."

Gold finally broke eye contact as he made his way back to the wooden stool behind the counter. "I take it he is. And truly, Ms. French," he paused, carefully seating himself and hanging his cane on the glass case, "-don't worry about checking up on your son. I have no qualms with children."

Isabelle nodded, seeming reassured. "I'll take your word for it, Mr. Gold. Now what is taking Bailey so long to get back?"

Gold spied the boy munching down on a sandwich, leaning against the hood of his mother's car. "I say he is not willing to share his lunch" he informed, far too amused than he wished to sound.

Isabelle spun around, mouth gapping open. "That boy" she growled, storming out the door, fists curled tightly ready to whoop her son's tail. "Bailey!"


	3. Chapter 3

Bailey was one happy kid as he walked to his new job. He'd worked at Mr. Gold's pawnshop for three weeks now, and already had a significant among of cash lining his jeans' pocket for the first time in his young life. Mr. Gold paid him in cash every day, paying the boy above minimum wage. Bailey had expected the pawnshop owner to be stingy being the money grubber everyone knew him to be. But when Mr. Gold presented him with the first day's pay, the unrelenting landlord went up a notch in Bailey's book.

His mother had asked if Mr. Gold was treating him well. Bailey rolled his eyes after the fifth time she inquired him, and slinked off to his bedroom, muttering, "Everything is cool, Mom." She'd drop by unexpectedly nearly every day he worked, much to Bailey's discontent. She was checking up on him, and what self-respecting teenage boy wanted their mom checking on them all the time?

His mother had always been polite to Mr. Gold, that's just who was. She wasn't afraid of him like most people in town, only cautious. Bailey admired her courage. He figured that's where he received his backbone, because it definitely wasn't from his father. The man had left before he was born. In his mind, his father was a coward, not wanting to take responsibly for the new life he created. His mother only spoke of the man a few times in his life and only in vague detail. It seemed she didn't even remember much about him.

It surprised Bailey how well he was getting along with Mr. Gold. The older man easy to talk to, and they'd had many conversations as Bailey dusted, sorted, or moved whatever Mr. Gold instructed him to. The pawnshop owner was more than willing to discuss matters of everyday life, asking Bailey how school was going and giving advice if needed. It was nice having another adult to talk to besides his mother or grandpa.

What really set Mr. Gold above the image of strict landlord was the fridge of sodas he kept in the back. Mr. Gold limited him to one per work day, but Bailey was more than happy with that arrangement. If his mother ever found out, she'd probably have Bailey's hide for not informing his employer of the standards he was supposed to keep. He'd take the risk.

While Bailey was cutting through the park from school on his way to work one Friday, a group of boys around his age were in a circle around someone. Bae knew from experience these boys were trouble. He didn't want to interfere with whatever scheming deed they were up to, but halted when he saw one of the boys push down a much younger one into the dirt.

Bailey didn't give a second's thought as he dashed over to the group, pushing his way into the circle. The younger boy sprawled on the ground he recognized as Henry Mills, the mayor's son. If Henry was scared, he didn't show and Bailey admired him for that.

"Still picking on kids way younger than you, Nate?" Bailey snapped, shielding Henry, never taking his eyes off his adversary.

Nathaniel Cole stepped forward, menacingly. He was eye to eye with Bailey, but had more muscle tone and strength. Being the smaller of any fight never stopped Bailey from taking on any boy he needed to beat down. Anger toward bullies kept any fear he may have had defused.

"If it means I get to pound my fist into your face again" Nate answered with a crack of his knuckle.

Bailey only had to wait a beat before the larger boy lunged a fist at his face. Bailey moved aside, hooking a foot around Nate's leg. Nate fell to the ground face first, and sputtered as he raised his head, dusty dirt covering his front. He quickly rolled over, jumping to his feet and tackling Bailey to the ground. Bailey scrambled to get out of Nate's arm locked around his middle. He knew if your adversary held you on the ground, he had a better chance of beating the snot out of you.

Nate's hand gripped Bailey's shirt tail, keeping him from standing. Bailey snarled, whirling around and clocking Nate's cheekbone. Nate yelped, holding his already bruising cheek. It took no time for his anger to catch up and he jumped to his feet again, lunging blindly with a tight fist. Bailey nearly fell backwards as it connected with his right eye.

The other boys were suddenly scrambling in all different directions. Henry was yelling at him to run as he tugged desperately at Bailey's hoodie sleeve. He let Henry drag him along as they disappeared into a patch of trees. They slowed after running a safe distance, both hunched over out of breath. Bailey slugged over to a tree, plopping down none-too-gracefully, holding his throbbing eye.

"Thanks for saving me from those guys," Henry said, shuffling over to bend down next to Bailey. A touch of wonder filled his voice. "You were really brave to take on Nate like that."

Bailey shrugged a shoulder, groaning as he did. "That was not the first time I ever fought with Nate."

"Judging by the bruise on his face, you hit him hard." Henry smiled.

"Good" Bailey muttered, the idea of Nate's purple and black cheekbone shining for all the world to see amused him highly and made his own pain worth it. "I need to get to work. I'm already way too late."

Henry ran off in the opposite direction as Bailey ran through the woods, making it to the main street and down the sidewalk to the pawnshop. He stopped short as he threw open the door, the bell clanging wildly. Mr. Gold stood in the middle of the shop floor looking rather tense.

"Bailey, where have you been?" he asked sternly but gently. Mr. Gold suddenly seemed shocked as Bailey stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights. He stayed rooted to the floor as Mr. Gold hurried to him, grabbing his chin, turning his face to the left to examine the bruise. "What happened to you, son?"

"It's nothing" Bailey replied, nonchalantly pushing passed his employer to dispose of his backpack in the office. He was well aware of Mr. Gold following him, hoping the older man would not press the issue. He'd probably want to call Bailey's mom, she'd rush over and make a huge fuss. That was the last thing Bailey wanted. He'd deal with the worry and wrath of his mother soon enough.

"It's nothing?" Mr. Gold echoed acidulously. "Your eye is shining brighter than the sun."

"I got into a little fight with someone." Bailey shrugged it off, making his way to the fridge for a can of soda. He popped the tab, taking a long sip, and then pressing the cold can to his eye. "No big deal."

"Who was the boy that attacked you?" Mr. Gold prompted, his lips forming a snarl.

Bailey groaned. He hadn't expected an interrogation from his employer. Why should the man even care? He didn't come to work all bloody or with a broken bone, and was only a fraction late. "It's doesn't matter. Isn't the first time I've been in a fight, and won't be the last time."

Mr. Gold tapped his cane as he stepped forward. The concern on the man's usual schooled features was disconcerting. "If you won't tell him who fought with you, at least tell me the reason why."

He could give Mr. Gold the reason at least. Bailey leaned against the desk, taking another swig of soda and replacing it against his throbbing eye. "I was headed here when I saw some jerks pushing the mayor's son around." Bailey felt himself glaring at Mr. Gold. "I don't take kindly to bullies. They think they're strong and above other people, but all they are, are cowards."

A long beat passed as employer and employee stared off, both pairs of brown eyes unblinking. Mr. Gold finally broke contact, glancing down at the floor. "Be careful, son. Next time you may receive more than just a black eye."


	4. Chapter 4

It was no surprise to Isabelle when she spotted the shiner encircling her son's eye. Bailey was a boy and boys enjoyed pounding their fists into each other's face for no apparent reason. Bailey, however, did have a good reason this time, though she'd have preferred he find an adult to intervene.

Isabelle was surprised by the concern Mr. Gold showed for Bailey's encounter. In fact, the way he treated her son completely shocked her. She'd never seen Mr. Gold interact with children before, but maybe he had a soft spot for kids? When she thought about it, he'd never bestowed a harsh word on her either. To her father, yes, but not to her. Poor Moe French became flustered every time the landlord made an appearance.

"I don't think Mr. Gold has any friends" Bailey commented one evening as his mother prepared supper.

Isabelle snorted. "I'm not surprised. Bailey, get off the counter!" She shooed her son from the counter, slapping his shoulder and bestowing her most menacing 'Mom' look. Bailey only rolled his eyes, hopping off to sit at the round, green laminate kitchen table.

"Mr. Gold is kind of cool."

Isabelle couldn't help but feel the need to agree. Every time she dropped by Mr. Gold's shop unexpectedly, which was pretty much every single day Bailey worked there, he was always friendly toward her in an awkward sort of way. "He does seem nicer than I expected. Maybe he's finally realizing being an absolute jerk is a lonely road."

Bailey shrugged. "I kind of feel bad for him."

"Bailey, the man chooses to be the way he is" Isabelle stated with the air of adult experience. She plopped a bowl of potatoes and a peeler in front of him. "You get what you give, and Mr. Gold doesn't seem to give anything away."

"Maybe he just needs someone to be his friend." The hinting in Bailey's voice was more than obvious.

Isabelle sighed in frustration, knowing her son was right. What did she know of Mr. Gold's past? What if something had happened to cause him to be such a cold human being and all he needed was someone to chip the ice away with a wee bit of kindness and acceptance?

Isabelle leaned on the heels of her hands on the table across from her son, eyeing him wryly. Bailey looked back, feigning innocence. "How about we invite Mr. Gold over for supper tomorrow night?"

Bailey's wide grin was answer enough.

The next morning as she dropped her son off at the pawnshop, Isabelle followed him in. She shouldn't have been nervous, really. She'd held more than enough brief conversations with Mr. Gold over the past few weeks to feel at ease talking to him. It wasn't as if asking him to come over for supper would cost Bailey his job or anything.

Mr. Gold accepted the offer with something that resembled a smile. Isabelle wasn't sure if he was glad or irritated by the offer, either way Mr. Gold was coming to supper that night. As she walked out the pawnshop, her father came to mind and she groaned. Moe would not be happy with the relentless landlord sitting at their humble kitchen table.

Bailey had informed his grandfather of his new job, and Moe was on the verge of a nervous breakdown as he paced around the coffee table, rubbing perspiration from his face as Bailey assured him Mr. Gold wouldn't take the boy for collateral for their rent. The poor man would probably have a mild heart attack sharing a meal with the infamous pawnshop owner.

She had to get her father out the house. Maybe suggesting Moe go play cards that night would work. It was really the only idea she had. Moe was one for settling in his worn, red leather chair in the evenings and not move until it was time to turn in. Playing cards would have to do whether she had to call all her father's friends herself to organize it. Thankfully, Moe was up to the idea and said he'd spread the word as he did his rounds along his delivery route. Isabelle sighed in relief, heading outside to water the plants. There was hope for a peaceful evening.

Mr. Gold drove Bailey home that evening after closing up shop. "Hi, Mom!" he greeted cheerfully, rushing passed her. "I'm gonna wash up!"

"All right!" Isabelle shook her head, chuckling to herself. She turned, nearly forgetting Mr. Gold had come in, and gave him a small, welcoming smile.

"Good evening, Ms. French" Mr. Gold said pleasantly, and Isabelle could have sworn she saw a hint of nervousness on his face.

"Mr. Gold."

"It smells good" he commented, gesturing to the oven.

A compliment before the meal was even served? Isabelle bit her lip, smiling again, surprised. "Thank you. I hope you like chicken spaghetti."

"Anything you fix will be fine."

Isabelle nodded, wracking her brain for something else to say. When they talked in the pawnshop, conversation came easy, but now that they were in her territory, her personal space, her mind was blank. It seemed Mr. Gold was having the same problem. She was relieved when Bailey reappeared and took up post sitting at the table, coaxing Mr. Gold to sit as well.

She'd seen her son and Mr. Gold interact several times, but it still perplexed her how well they connected. Bailey chatted with his employer as if they'd been friends his whole life. Mr. Gold seemed to connect with Bailey just as easily. He portrayed such patience with the boy, such comfortable ease.

Isabelle peeked in the oven, the pan of chicken spaghetti browning nicely. "Supper will be ready in a few minute" she announced, taking out the plates from the cabinet.

Bailey hopped up to prepare drinks. Mr. Gold watched them both intently, his rigid stature loosened now. Isabelle was placing the plates on the table, feeling more at ease herself with the fact that Mr. Gold was sitting at her kitchen table as if he belonged there, when the front door swung open. She nearly jumped out her skin, eyes wide at the sight of her father standing in the doorway.

"Papa!" Isabelle exclaimed, sounding far too chipper. "What happened to playing cards tonight?"

Moe stood still as if he'd been turn to stone, eyeing Mr. Gold timidly. "Mr. Gold" he croaked out, ignoring his daughter. He stood a little taller, prouder. "The rent isn't due for another two weeks."

"I'm not here for the rent, Mr. French" Gold growled, his tone sounding as if shooing away a pesky bug.

Isabelle was about to intervene, but Bailey did before she could and it was probably for the best. The boy was good at soften blows. "We invited Mr. Gold over for supper, Grandpa."

Moe shot Isabelle a look of contempt. "So, that's why you wanted me to go play cards tonight" he accused.

"If you have a problem with me eating at your table, Mr. French, then I'll leave" Mr. Gold said, grabbing his cane to stand.

"You're not leaving!" Bailey yelled, and he rushed to stand in front of Moe, not at all intimidated by the taller man's towering frame. "He's our guest, Grandpa. Just because you don't like him, doesn't mean we can't."

Moe glanced at Isabelle then back down at Bailey's hopeful face. "Okay" he finally said eyes burning at Mr. Gold.

Isabelle let out the breath she'd held in since her father walked through the door. She glanced over at Mr. Gold, noticing how white his knuckles were on the head of his cane and how tight his jaw sat. He'd kept his promise to Bailey to not threaten her or Moe, but she could tell how much her father's attitude was eating at him. Isabelle rubbed her eyes, the uneasy feeling that the evening would not be as pleasant as she thought.

Supper was slightly awkward as both men sat across from each other, ultimately ignoring one another. All the focus was on Bailey, who knew exactly how to defuse the tension by chatting away about anything that came to mind. Mr. Gold complimented her again, this time for how delicious the meal was and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Moe's jaw set firmly.

Bailey pulled Moe into the living room to play a round of cards after supper, and Isabelle was amazed once again by the boy's art of distraction. But that meant she was left alone with Mr. Gold. He awkwardly in one hand carried a stake of dishes over to the sink as she prepared the water for wash.

"Oh, you don't have to do that" Isabelle rendered taking the stake from his hand carefully.

"It's no matter," Gold replied, coming to stand a few feet from her at the counter. "Thank you, Ms. French, for inviting me. Coming to know Bailey has put my mind at ease." Isabelle looked up, cocking her head just slightly, curious. "And you as well," Gold added, and she nearly dropped the plate she was placing in the sink.

Isabelle took up the washcloth, and began scrubbing, her brow furrowed. "Why Bailey?" she asked, inquiringly. "Out of all the young men in town, why did you have my son come work for you?"

"I told you before, Ms. French. Bailey is a good boy, and I needed someone who I felt I could trust."

The last line caught Isabelle curiosity. There was more to it than just needing someone to help around his shop. She turned to Mr. Gold, dropping the washcloth in the sink water with a plop. "What's the catch, Mr. Gold?"

She could tell in his eyes that he had more reasoning behind it than what he was telling her, but he was reluctant to say. After a long beat, he licked his bottom lick and answered, "I need an heir."

"An heir?" Isabelle echoed, confused. "You mean, for your business and housing?"

Mr. Gold nodded, fiddling with the head of his cane. "You see, Ms. French, I have no one to take over all that is mine when I am gone."

"No family?" she asked astonished, but it hit her who she was talking to.

"None" Mr. Gold said flatly, and what he told her next dropped an anchor in Isabelle's heart. "I had a son, but he's gone." Gold's gaze was fixed on the kitchen table. "Bailey reminds me so much of my son in many ways. I guess that is another reason I chose him."

Isabelle bit her upper lip, her thoughts from the day before hitting her like a mac truck. Something had happened in Mr. Gold's past to make him the way he is. He'd lost his son. She couldn't imagine such a horrible fate as to lose a child. She had the urge to run to Bailey and hug him close and never let go. "I'm sorry" she whispered, raising a hand to squeeze his shoulder in a brief, comforting touch.

"It was a long time ago" Mr. Gold continued. "I want this to be Bailey's discussion, but only if you're all right with the offer." He met her eyes, a pained look glowering back at her.

Isabelle offered a reassuring smile, not completely sure if she was okay with it yet. "If Bailey wishes to be your heir then I'll allow it."

Mr. Gold thanked her. She hoped he stay for the blueberry tarts she'd baked earlier that day, but he bid goodnight to Bailey who made it a point to shake the older man's hand, respectfully. Moe just sat on the couch glaring, and Gold skillfully ignored him.

As Isabelle saw him out the door, Gold hesitated for a moment as they said their goodnights. He leaned over and kissed Isabelle's cheek before heading out. She could barely move shock electrifying through her at what just happened. It was barely a brush of the lips on her cheek and it probably didn't mean anything but thank you, but Isabelle couldn't help think it meant something totally different.


	5. Chapter 5

They trust him. Isabelle trusts her son – _his_ son – to work with him. Bailey trusts him to cage the fiery dragon even when damn Moe French is being a git. They trust him to enter over the threshold of their cozy, outdated home and share a meal together.

They _trust_ him, and Gold could feel a faint sense of hope of reuniting with his small, fragmented family slowly warming his dark, rotten heart.

Bailey is so like himself to Gold's delight - with the exception of one thing. Baelfire was never involved in fights. There was no cause for it, even with a father as the town coward. No one ever did anything physical to show their distain towards them, only scornful looks and whispering jeers behind their backs. The only true bullies they ever encountered were men of high power, who captained ships and armies, who stole women and children with greedy hands.

In his inner being, Baelfire had a fighter's heart. It only now is being coaxed out to use. That's what makes him so much like Belle.

_Isabelle_.

His brave, little Belle who sacrificed everything just short of her own life to save what was precious to her. Being led away to secret places by a monster wearing crocodile skin and a jagged smile. Isabelle was the embodiment of brave just like his Belle, but there was a sharpness about her in this new world. Where the sweet smiles and glittering blue eyes were – and still are, they only need to be coaxed out - is now an iron shield and a double-edged sword, and Gold had to admit he rather liked the new fierceness.

One day the curse would break and they'd remember him. There was a part of Gold that dreaded when that day would come. Both partings involved stabbing their loving hearts, destroying any trust or hope they had of ever having a tear-soaked reunion. What would they think of him, after remembering who they truly were and knowing how he slithered into their lives while they were unaware?

The day would come, but Gold stored the painful assumption in a drawer in the back of his mind, locked away with iron chains and a lost key. For now, he relished in the fact that his son and True Love were in his life again, whether they remembered him or not.

"Mr. Gold" Bailey's voice cut through the lingering silence. Gold glanced up from the tedious task of repairing a strange looking pair of spectacles. The boy wore a mischievous little smirk, leaning both elbows on the glass counter.

"Yes, son?"

"Do you like my Mom?"

"Of course." The boy knew better. "She's a lovely lady."

"But do you _like_ her?" Bailey emphasized his meaning with a slight tilt of the head and a glint in his eye that sent Gold back to a time of morning fishing trips and innocent laughter when it was just him and his boy and they were each other's world.

Gold shook himself clear of the past, setting down his tools, pushing away the magnifying glass, and leaned forward to examine the boy's face closer. "Bailey, are asking what I think you're asking?"

"I saw you kiss Mama on the cheek the other night" Bailey replied, hintingly. The boy is right to make the assumption. Gold wasn't just interested in Isabelle – _his_ Belle. He'd loved her for so long, but that information needed to be kept under lock and key.

"And what if I am?" Gold said, reserved, but a challenge gleamed in his eyes.

"I need to know." Bailey seemed so grown up, standing with a straight back and protective tone filtering into his voice. "She is my Mom. The last 3 guys she dated didn't end well, because they were all jerks. I mean, I thought you were a jerk too before I got to know you, but I actually like you."

Gold lowered his gaze for a moment, collecting his thoughts that had suddenly turned guilty. But why the guilt when for 28 years he did not know who they truly were or who he even was. He was making up for all the threats and malevolent glares he dish out when he was just Mr. Gold, owner of half the town.

"Glad to have made a good impression" Mr. Gold murmured. "Even if I were to be _interested_ in your Mother, there is a slim chance she'd return the affections."

Bailey made a dismissive snorting sound. "She's getting used to you," he affirmed with all the confidence in his water-colored world.

Gold's expression screamed contempt. "Real encouraging, Bailey." He grabbed up the delicate tools to begin repair work again, completely ignoring the boy's grin.

Bailey shifted away from the glass counter, and Gold assumed the boy picked back up where he'd been working.

"My first soccer game is this Saturday. I'd really like for you to come."

Mr. Gold sighed. How could he deny his heart and soul? "Then I'll be there."

* * *

He knew there'd be stares of disbelief and whispers from ear to ear, but Gold paid no mind as he traipsed onto the sidelines of the soccer field as if it were his backyard. Let the people of this town think what they may. There were only two people here who mattered.

He spotted Isabelle near the goal line perched in a portable fold-up chair. Another empty chair sat next to hers. Gold hoped the boy had warned her of the invitation, that he wasn't about to make a fool of himself, though he'd slyly cover the mistake with a grand explanation. There was no need. The cheerful smile Isabelle provided when she saw him was answer enough.

"Mr. Gold, you made it" she said, her sincerity calming the tension Gold didn't know he'd been harboring since he'd started to the soccer field. She gestured to the empty seat, "I brought a chair for you."

"Thank you, Miss French." He lowered into the folding chair, grimacing as the seat sank low at his weight. He was a strange sight to see, indeed. Custom tailored suit, expensive cane standing erect in his weathered hands. He was definitely the only person dressed for business on the sidelines. "I take it you agreed to this?"

"Bailey wanted you here" Isabelle answered, easily, leaning closer to speak to him. Gold intentionally drew closer to her as she continued, "My father had to step in to help raise him all these years and I'm thankful for that, but I think it's good for Bailey to have another male figure to look up to as well. You were the last person in town I would have picked, but-." He would have taken her seriously and maybe she was to a degree, but the wicked little smirk playing on her lips told him otherwise.

Gold scanned the field, eyes falling on a looming figure across from them. Moe stood there, staring intensely, unyielding. "Your father did not take the news of my coming well."

Isabelle snorted and it reminded him so much of Bailey's dismissive sound he'd give when he thought something was no big deal. The more time he spent with them both, the more they seemed as real mother and son, which was heartening and frightening at the same time. "Don't mind him. He doesn't share well."

"He is the last person who would bother me," he informed with practiced ease and the wave of his hand, clipping his tongue from saying what he really desired to say.

The referee blew the whistle as the game began. Gold finally caught sight of Bailey in his black and neon green uniform as he sprinted across the field. Baelfire had loved playing the football game in the old world, and Gold could see the images from long, long ago playing on the borders of his consciousness. He watched, amused, as Isabelle jumped to her feet, cheering, her dark ponytail bouncing, every time Bailey's team made a goal. He merely clapped, though the need to cheer along with Isabelle was tempting.

In the end, Bailey's team lost by only a few points. He waved over at Isabelle and Mr. Gold, acknowledging he was going to talk with his grandfather before he headed out. Isabelle moved to fold up the chairs, Gold helping her replace them in their packs.

"You and your father have done a good job raising your boy." Gold hated that one was Moe French, but the boy seemed to love the man and talked highly of him.

Isabelle didn't hide her surprise at the compliment. "Thank you, Mr. Gold." Her gaze met the grassy ground for a beat, nibbling on her bottom lip, and he could tell she was trying to resolve herself to an arduous decision. "I always take Bailey for ice cream after every game. Would you like to join us?"

Isabelle's eyes connected with his, and she gave him an encouraging smile. How could he pass up the opportunity? Every minute with them was a blessing and a curse, but he'd rather deal with the curse if that meant he could be near either of them. "Yes, I'll join you."


	6. Chapter 6

_Writer's note: This chapter didn't come out as I wanted it, but I've been sitting on it for days and am ready to just release it into the wild lol._

* * *

Bailey was a boy with a plan.

He liked Mr. Gold. Not only did his employer pay him well and not treat him like a naïve kid, but he also treated his Mama with respect. His Mama deserved a man who respected her. She hadn't had the best of luck the few times she tried to be in a relationship, but he could see that Mr. Gold would be good to her.

As they strolled into Granny's for ice cream, Bailey led the front picking a table by the window and sliding into the booth.

"Bailey, scoot over" Isabelle instructed, flicking her wrist in a "shoo" gesture.

"I never get to sit by myself" he replied matter-of-factly, clasping his hands together atop the table in a stubborn fashion. "Sit with Mr. Gold, Mama."

Isabelle glanced at Mr. Gold, uncertainty on her face, but Gold acted like he didn't mind, nodding his agreement. He caught Bailey's eye as he settled into the booth after Belle and threw him a look of mock contempt, but Bailey just smiled smugly at him. Mr. Gold knew what he was up, and hopefully he'd play along.

"Bailey, have you ever ordered a Kitchen Sink before?" Gold asked hintingly as he hung his cane on the table.

"Mama always said it's a waste because we wouldn't be able to eat it all." Bailey nudged his Mama's leg under the table with the toe of his shoe.

"Between the two of us it would be a waste" Isabelle countered, nudging him right back.

"There are three of us here," Mr. Gold pointed out, "I don't think it'll be a waste."

Bailey's eyes grew as big as saucers. "We can get the Kitchen Sink?"

Mr. Gold gave him a small smile, his eyes crinkling. "My treat."

Bailey felt as if he were floating on a cloud of whipped cream, given the honor of ordering the delicious ice cream confection. His mouth watered at the thought of finally sinking a spoon into the most coveted dessert at Granny's. He barely remembered to continue his plan, but it came back to him and he excused himself from the table to go look at the song list in the jukebox.

He glanced over his shoulder as he leaned over the jukebox, trying to be inconspicuous. Bailey didn't really know when he decided Mr. Gold would be right for his Mama, but after his employer showed up to his soccer game, it was set in stone in his mind that this was going to happen. He grinned in satisfaction at his Mama and Mr. Gold chatting gaily.

It wasn't long before a waitress strolled out carrying a gigantic porcelain bowl shaped like a sink, and Baily nearly tripped over his feet to get back to the table. He dove in for a landing barely avoiding the poor waitress trying her best to balance the heavy order.

The Kitchen Sink consisted of 5 different ice cream favors, all stacked atop each other forming a colorful mountain. Peanuts, sprinkles, hot fudge, and whipped cream covered the top like muddy snow. Bailey wasted no time digging into it with his spoon like a hungry bear as the adults at the table took a more civilized approach.

The mountain of ice cream quickly disappeared and Bailey sat down, sighing. "You will be so sick later" Isabelle remarked, chuckling as he laid his head back on the booth with a grunt.

"Sooner than later" Bailey replied, trying to take a deep breath, "but it was so worth it."

Mr. Gold stood, leaning on his cane and waggled a finger at him. "Just don't let it be an excuse to miss work tomorrow."

Bailey nodded respectfully. "Yes, sir. Thank you, Mr. Gold for the ice cream."

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Gold." Isabelle slid out the booth, her hand on Mr. Gold's arm in the barest of touches. Bailey's eyes fixed on the touch for a moment before he realized he was staring and busied himself to leave the booth as well. "It was nice spending time with you."

Mr. Gold glanced down at Isabelle's hand on his arm, and Bailey could see something in his eyes. Hope, maybe? He wasn't sure, but it was something good. It had to be.

* * *

Work went off the same as always. Bailey's ice cream high had worn off and he wasn't sure he'd desire having another Kitchen Sink for a while. He was just finishing up with sweeping the display floor when Mr. Gold called him into the office.

"Yes, Mr. Gold?" Bailey looked expectantly at his employer as the man pushed away from his desk and made his way around.

"I have something very important to ask you."

Bailey froze, his mind racing at the thought of Mr. Gold asking for his Mama's hand in marriage. But no, they weren't even dating. He pushed the premature thought away.

Mr. Gold leaned both hands on the tip of his cane, the air in the office suddenly thick. "The reason I asked you to come work for me was more than a need for help around the shop. I need an heir: someone who I can trust and train to take over when I cannot." Mr. Gold stepped closer, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I'd like you to be that someone."

Bailey gaped. This was not what he expected. Maybe if Mr. Gold married his Mama and they became a family, he'd become a part of the business (and in time change a few ways Mr. Gold acquired his rent), but that was never an important part of the plan.

"Really, Mr. Gold?" Bailey asked in disbelief. "Are you sure you want me?"

Mr. Gold pulled away from him, hands resting on his cane again. With a deep nod, he answered, voice thicker than usual, "You're exactly what I've been searching for, son."

Bailey's smile split his face, his youthful excitement bursting all around him. Without thinking, he threw himself at Mr. Gold, embracing him as if he were a beloved family and not just an employer. Bailey pulled away after a moment, looking sheepish. "Sorry about that."

Mr. Gold tried to smile back, but his face was stiff and eyes dazed. "It's no matter, son. Run on home and tell your mother the news. She knew of my offer, but it had to be your decision."

Bailey scooped up his backpack from the settee he always set it on, ready to bolt out of the pawnshop. He halted, a thought crossing his mind. He'd learned so much about Mr. Gold in the 6 weeks that he worked for him and this was the biggest, "Mr. Gold, you're really not the bad guy you assume to be."

"Thank you, Bailey." He wondered as he walked home how that comment could have choked up Mr. Gold.


	7. Chapter 7

Bailey embraced him.

Even though it was only for a brief moment, his son had embraced him and Gold could hardly move, hardly think. He'd somehow mustered up a voice to respond to Bailey, but after the boy left, all Gold could do was stand rooted on the spot and feel his son's arms around him.

He'd needed the touch of the son for so long, and in that moment, his whole world felt complete again in nearly three hundred years.

Gold finally willed himself to move, slowly trekking to the back and sitting at his desk. He breathed in deep, not knowing how much longer he could keep up the façade. His son and his True Love were with him nearly every day, and not knowing who he truly was to them was more agonizing than not having them at all at times. But Gold would take what he was dealt from the curse, knowing one day soon it would break and they'd remember him and they could be a family.

The next week went by as usual. Bailey's enthusiasm was flying as he kept the pawnshop tidy and asked questions about how the business worked. Gold felt like flying himself, feeling closer to Bailey than before. Bailey invited him over Saturday, informing him that it was Isabelle's birthday. Gold knew it was only her cursed birthday, but to Isabelle it was important and Gold would be there for her.

Gold raised his hand to knock on the back door of the floral shop, hesitating when he heard commotion from the other side. A loud clatter sounded from behind the door and Bailey's voice could be heard coming closer. Something was amiss, he could feel it.

Passively knocking, Gold waited anxiously for someone to reveal the mystery. When Bailey answered the door, he smiled brightly at Gold, inviting him in. Gold peered around, taking in the two stuffed backpacks sitting on the kitchen table, along with a sack that had a label indicating it was a tent haphazardly leaning against a chair. The clatter of the poles was most likely what he'd heard.

"Bailey, what's going on?" Gold asked, sweeping a hand at all the camping supplies.

"Grandpa and I are going camping" Bailey replied, excitedly.

"Going camping without me on my birthday!" Isabelle protested from the kitchen entranceway. She looked perturbed, hands planted on her slim hips and a slight pout of her lips, but her eyes held no anger.

Bailey jogged up to her, throwing an arm around her shoulder. Gold could see a plan cooking in the boy's head. His smile was overly innocent as he practically presented Isabelle to him. "That's why Mr. Gold is here, Mama. He wanted to come over for your birthday. Now you won't spend it alone."

Isabelle's face flushed, appearing quite mortified at the idea. "Bailey! You knew your grandpa was taking you camping, but you invited Mr. Gold over anyways?"

"It's all right, Ms. French" Gold intervened, catching the need for help in Bailey's eyes. He'd play along for today, but come Monday, he'd have a talk with the boy about his little matchmaking game. "Bailey explained the situation to me yesterday. It didn't seem right to leave a lady alone on her birthday."

The dismay melted from Isabelle's features, replaced with a curious smile. "Thank you, Mr. Gold."

Bailey practically beamed at them, and he hugged Isabelle tightly before scampering off to load the camping supplies in the delivery truck. Gold cleared his throat, awkwardly shifting his weight, Isabelle watching him intently.

"Would you like dinner at the diner?" he asked, wishing there was more he could give her than just a meal at a place she frequented.

"I hear Granny breaks out the fine china in the evening," Isabelle remarked jokingly, but her smile was genuine. "Let me change real quick and we can be on our way."

Bailey made one more appearance, grabbing up the tent and yelling a last "Happy Birthday" to Isabelle. "Thanks, Mr. Gold."

"We'll talk about this later, Bailey." He tried sounding parental, but it was hard to be stern with the boy when Bailey had procured a dinner with his True Love.

The engines of the delivery truck revved up, growing fainter until it disappeared a minute later. Gold stared at the kitchen table, his mind abuzz with the thought that he and Isabelle – _his Belle_ – were going to dinner alone. He swallowing hard, not feeling this nervous since the first day Bailey had come to work for him.

"I'm ready." Isabelle's lithe voice broke him of his trance, and Gold snapped up his gaze, breathe catching. Isabelle was clad in a turquoise sundress, a white, satiny sweater hanging loose over the top. Her hair fell over her shoulders, lovely chestnut waves standing out against the pure fabric. Every time she'd come to the pawnshop, or he'd see her around town, she always dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. She was beautiful to him no matter what, but this sight was one to behold.

"Let's be off."

* * *

Granny breaking out the fine china in the evening was truly just a rumor, but Gold didn't care as he sat across from Isabelle, watching her order. A hamburger and iced tea. He'd have the same.

They chatted about Bailey's excitement over Gold's offer and Isabelle informed him that her father didn't know yet. It was best to keep it that way for the time being. Moe wasn't Gold's biggest fan, and he had his own plans for Bailey to run the floral shop.

"Why did you agree to what I offered Bailey?" Gold asked.

Isabelle nibbled her lip a moment then leaned against the table, clasping her hands together. "I don't want Bailey to feel stuck like I do." Flashes of the girl in a golden dress standing courageous in a room full of men crossed his mind's eyes. Belle had been stuck in a position of responsibly, having her life planned for her. "I want him to have the best opportunities possible, and I think working for you is the best he'll get in this whole town."

"But what about you?" Gold wondered aloud, "What do you want to do with your life, Ms. French?"

Isabelle frowned down at the table. "What I want to do will never happen. I wrote my dream off when I became pregnant at 16 years old and had to raise a baby without a father."

Gold was taken aback by her confess. She'd never talked about her past, and though he knew it was all false memories, he felt for her.

"I wouldn't trade Bailey for the world, but I wish it could have been different."

"But if you could do anything, what would it be?" Gold pressed, wanting to know her heart's desire. He'd do anything in his power to give Isabelle her dream.

Passion flashed in Isabelle's eyes. "I want to open the library again."

Gold held back a surprised chuckle. He should have guessed it. It was one of the first things he learned about Belle when she came to live with him. She _loved_ books. Books were her passion, and opening the town's library would be her perfect dream.

"I'll see what I can do" he proclaimed, earning a disbelieving laugh from Isabelle.

"You'll get me a library, Mr. Gold?" she asked with a snort.

He smirked mischievously at her. "Perhaps, dearie." She didn't believe him, but he was Mr. Gold, owner of over half the town. He'd make it happen.

Their food arrived, and they had a pleasant meal much to Gold's delight. Evening had long set as they walked back to the floral shop. To Gold's surprise, Isabelle wrapped an arm around his as they walked and he basked in the feel of her warmth beside him. Any doubt that she wasn't interested in him completely faded with her touch.

"So, whose idea was this?" Isabelle asked, suspiciously.

"Excuse me, Ms. French?"

"The birthday dinner," Isabelle stated as if he knew exactly what she meant. "Was it yours or Bailey's idea?"

Gold halted as they arrived at the floral shop's door, a street lamp the only light casing down upon them. "Bailey is a very bright boy," he replied, not wishing to rat the boy out totally.

Isabelle smiled triumphantly. "I knew it! That little sneak!"

"Don't be upset with him." Gold tried to save the poor boy's hide.

Isabelle waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, no, I'm not. I had a lovely evening." Her eyes practically sparkled up at him, and Gold forgot to breathe as she stepped into his personal space. He heard her swallow as she drew closer, and before he knew it, Isabelle's lips were pressed against his.

The kiss was hesitant at first as if she were seeking permission. Gold parted his lips, deepening their connection and Isabelle followed, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her fingers teased the ends of his hair, sending Gold's mind on fire and he moaned into her mouth.

Isabelle broke away slowly, her warm breath huffing upon his face. "That-" she licked her lips and Gold wished to do the same, "felt so good."

"Oh yeah," Gold added breathless.

Isabelle slipped her palms down his shoulders, resting on the folds of his jacket. "This turned out to be one of the best birthdays. I'd hate for it to end."

Gold had to touch her. He'd restrained for so long, but now the wall was broken and he brushed the soft skin of her cheek with his knuckle. "Isabelle-"

"Stay with me?" The question spilled from her mouth, hope and anxiousness mixed together. "The boys will be gone for the night. I mean, I don't want to lead you on because it's too early to go further with…things, but-" she paused for mere seconds and Gold could hear his heart pounding in his chest, "I'd like you to stay."

"Isabelle," the need was written all over her face. "If you wish to talk all night or to have me lay beside you-" He cradled her cheek, their eyes never leaving one another. "I'll stay."


	8. Chapter 8

They'd watched a movie – a random black and white western on the television - sitting hip to hip, her hand resting on his thigh. Isabelle wasn't sure how to feel about the infamous Mr. Gold seated on the couch beside her, jacket abandon on the old lounge chair and looking more relaxed than she'd ever seen him.

Nervous flutters attacked her stomach as he followed into her bedroom. Three years had passed since the last man had entered this room. That man ended up being jerk of the year. But Mr. Gold was different. He treated her and Bailey well, and that fact gave her the courage to curl up beside him as they nestled into her simple full-sized bed.

Isabelle awoke the next morning, rain pattering gently on the roof, to find Gold still beside her. He lay on his side, his free hand splayed over her waist, thumb teasing the outer edge of her belly, eyes closed. Isabelle rolled onto her other side, wishing to lay a good morning kiss on his lips. Gold had the same idea as he stirred, cracking one eye open to find her face inches from his, and he leaned over for a gentle kiss.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked, disappointed that the kiss didn't continue.

"Very well" Gold replied, absently stroking his thumb over her pajama-clad hip.

"Thank you for staying last night." Isabelle's voice sounded small and meek, almost a whisper. She couldn't resist the urge to cart her fingers through his wayward locks, smoothing them back behind his ear. "And not expecting anything beyond this."

A hint of a smile crossed Gold's lips, and he reached for Isabelle's hand, pressing a tender kiss to her palm. "I won't force you into anything. You set the pace, darling."

Isabelle nibbled her bottom lip, her heart swelling in her chest. "You are not who I thought you were," she observed, "and I am glad." Gold went still, his expression a mixture of shock and awe. Isabelle giggled. "Don't worry. Your reputation is safe with me."

In an instant, his bite was back. "No need, dearie. Let people think what they want to think."

"The last man I was involved with was not a good man," Isabelle started, feeling the need to tell him the story of her relationship with Greg March. Gold watched her intently, fingers fluttering tantalizingly over her waist. "I got involved with him when Bailey was 10. It was the first relationship since Bailey's father left. He was so handsome and strong and I was blinded by all of that. He treated me like a prize, and I stupidly went along with it. It felt great at first to be put on displayed, but the shininess quickly wore off.

"He kept persuading me that he needed me and told me how beautiful I was until I finally gave in again and again. When we laid together, it was always for him. We never did anything I wanted to try. Then one day I caught him bullying Bailey about being a wimp and how he needed meat on his bones." Ire flashed in her eyes. Anyone who mistreated her son had to face the terror of a Mama Bear. "Something snapped in me and cursed him from here to the tenth realm of hell. He never set foot in this house again."

Isabelle's cheeks flamed at the last two sentences, but Gold was beaming at her. "You deserved better, Isabelle. I'm not a good man, but I'll try to be for you."

"But you are a good man," Isabelle countered, cupping his cheek soothingly. She hoped to convince him that there was good in him. She could see it plainly with how well he treated Bailey, and how he'd taken to her with such humble respect. "I think you've been mistaken for a beast for so long, you actually believe you are one."

Gold cracked a sad, broken smile. "Thank you, Isabelle. I needed to hear that."

Isabelle leaned across the pillow, pressing a warm kiss to his lips. "Anytime," she breathed, their breath mingling, sending tingles down her body. She couldn't resist. They hadn't talked about being in a relationship as of yet, but being with Gold felt as if the world had righted itself again. He was the part of her she didn't realize she was missing.

Their innocent little good morning kisses quickly transcended into passionate as their tongues teased each other through parted lips. Gold wrapped arms around her waist, rolling her over onto him as he lay his back on the bed. Isabelle moaned into his mouth when she felt the hardening bulge through her pajamas shorts, white heat suddenly flooding her in places she hadn't felt in forever.

Gold slipped palms down her bottom, squeezing her rear playfully. Isabelle broke their connection, giggling like a schoolgirl and feeling as if she were floating. "Like that, darling?" Gold asked, baring his teeth in a sly grin.

"Touch me there anytime you wish," she tittered, pecking him on the tip of his nose.

"Watch what you give me permission to do, dearie" he warned teasingly, giving her rear another tantalizing squeeze, "I won't be able to keep my hands off you."

Isabelle attached his lips in a fierce kiss before yanking away, breathless. "Good."

They could have – mostly likely _would_ have – stayed in bed the rest of the day, oblivious to everything except each other. But rain still pattered on the roof and a familiar sound cut through it like thunder rumbling. Isabelle suddenly snapped her head up, staying stock still for a beat before jumping out of bed.

"What's wrong, Isabelle?" Gold asked, pushing up to sit.

"Papa and Bailey are home!" she exclaimed, frantically searching for clean clothes in her dresser. She tossed his discarded trousers and dress shirt onto the bed. "I don't want Bailey to know you stayed the night!"

She faced the wall, pulling off her pajamas top and replacing it with a black bra. She was in such a hurry she didn't care if Gold saw a peek of her. He probably would have seen every inch of her anyway if her boys hadn't come home so soon. By the time she was finished, Gold was fully dressed again, tugging on his shoes as he sat on the side of the bed.

He found his cane and stood. "Is there a back door I can escape from? Because I think climbing out of a window will be a challenge."

Isabelle stared at him, bewildered, before he waved his cane, and she couldn't help but laugh. "I am so sorry." She hurried to kiss him in apology, straying for a moment to grasp his hand. "I wanted to make breakfast for you." She brightened at an idea. "What if we pretend you just arrived right before they did? You must think I'm crazy."

Gold chuckled. "No, you're beautiful and if you wish to try that, I'll play along."

She helped him down the stairs, hoping her Papa or Bailey hadn't come in yet. She could hear them, but they were in the front part of the building and Isabelle breathed a sigh of relief as she deposited Gold at the kitchen table. She'd just pulled out the eggs and bacon from the fridge when Bailey strolled in, droplets of water flecked in his hair.

"Hey Mama" he greeted then stopped short at the sight of his employer, seemingly delighted. "Mr. Gold! You're here early."

"You're Mama invited me over for breakfast this morning," he replied, and Isabelle smiled knowingly to herself at their little secret.

Moe wasn't too happy to see Mr. Gold seated at their table, but Isabelle was thankful he was at least courteous to their guest and didn't disappear. Her Papa would come around – Isabelle knew – one day, especially if her relationship with Gold progressed.

The boys had gotten rained out from their camping trip. The forest floor became very muddy during a rainstorm and Moe was worried the van would become stuck. Bailey didn't seem to be too distraught over it as he chatted with Gold about the short camping trip.

Isabelle watched intently as she peered around their small, round kitchen table. It seemed Gold belonged there, or rather, it felt as if he'd always been there. She could picture a table with the four of them eating breakfast together every morning. The image made Isabelle smile.

Breakfast was soon over and the rain had finally stopped. Gold had to be on his way. She walked him to the front door of the shop, grasping his hand as they disappeared from sight of the kitchen. "Thank you for playing along."

Gold shook his head. "No matter. I understand your reasons."

Isabelle licked her lips as they leaned into each other for one more kiss. "See you soon."

Gold flashed a smile she was quickly learning was just for her. "Oh yeah."


End file.
